Epiphany
for Electa on January 6th

 

Blue bowl and the coming light
high maples glow red-tipped at dawn
full gesture of blood returning to limbs,
the threat of a surprising golden wind.
I am the coming bright
side of the triangle, hold myself
folded against my ribs, hands
uneasily preparing for all the feelings
to resurface on my skin.
Tight gray bark awash,
dark stain of sudden thaw–
all I need exposed in winter light:
the new old roots that deepen
as love calls up–urgente–
and the entire body answers
until all movement is
built on fierce joy and alarming patience,
lips daily grazing
the tenderness that surrounds me–this that has become
what I cannot do without:
it is asked of me
again even as winter is upon us
and it cannot be stopped, this asking
of the body to trust,
to carry the change to every outer reach
until present touch
touches present.

 
“Epiphany” (from Dos, Finishing Line Press) was translated into Arabic by an Iraqi writer and the poem, called “Song of Love” in translation, appeared on the excellent Iraqi literature site: http://www.alnaked-aliraqi.net/article/27446.php)